atonement
by saunatonttu
Summary: When you have done so much wrong in your life, atoning for your sins is not an easy task. Of Jellal and his thoughts about himself and his actions. Rated K . hinted Jerza.


**title:** atonement

**rating:** K+

**characters: **Jellal, Ultear, Meredy, mentions of Erza (hinted Jerza)

**summary:** When you have done so much wrong in your life, atoning for your sins is not an easy task.

**notes:** First time writing Jellal - first time writing for this fandom, too.

* * *

Atoning for your sins has never been easy – but if it were so, perhaps the whole meaning to _atonement_ would wither away and evaporate along with those sins.

* * *

When he remembers everything, he almost wishes that his memories would have stayed locked up within him forever. Even though he had already known what kind of evil person he was, the memories make it even more real than Erza's words, no matter how righteously angry they had been, no matter how much _hurt_ they had held.

When he remembers everything, he's still confined within the prison; he's still handcuffed and his magic is still restrained and every single day still feels like he's suffocating on his own miserable existence...

...and he's still thinking of Erza and her bright scarlet hair and her words that keep him alive, that keep him struggling through the interrogations he's still subjected to.

But now there's a whole lot to think about – the horrors of Tower of Heaven now snake into his mind, haunting and taunting, and the first time he remembers everything, he _screams_ out loud.

Suddenly it's not scarlet that he sees behind his closed eyelids, but _crimson_ and there's so much of it that he feels like he is drowning, that he's choking in blood he has forced to flood in that mockery of a heaven.

He's in the deepest part of the prison, and in the cell with thickest walls and coldest temperature, and his screams echo from the walls – only for no one but himself to hear the agony ripping at his vocal chords.

And when he can't scream no longer, when the pain in his heart mellows into a constant ache, Jellal feels tears hanging in his eyes – _Simon, why did any of this have to happen – _and he wonders if Erza would grow to hate him again if she knew.

That thought causes a nauseating twitch inside him, and he closes his eyes as he embraces his legs in the darkness of the cold cell.

* * *

He's waiting for his execution for there is nothing else for him to do. There is no escape – there is no _remedy_ for the things he has done – and even though Erza's words – _live and struggle, Jellal!_ - echo within his head and heart, Jellal doesn't think he is allowed to do so.

Can he allow himself to do so?

Magic Council certainly can't.

He sits in the darkest, coldest and most lonesome corner of his cell, and waits – and waits and waits and waits until he's not sure what he's waiting for.

Days, weeks, _months_ go by before-

-Ultear and Meredy come for him.

* * *

Atoning for his sins is something he has thought often, but before them – before these three women (girls?) that changed his life – he thought that the answer lies within death.

That death would undo everything – that all the hatred, pain and agony would dissipate if his being were to disappear from this world.

He thinks about the Tower; he thinks about the slaves – his former friends who more than likely hate him from the very bottom of their souls.

His endless thoughts and repenting gets cut off when the door to his cell is opened harshly and without a warning; a woman and a girl step into his cell, and Jellal squints his eyes at the stream of light that enters his cell.

Ultear. His eyes widen.

"Ultear." He remembers _her – _partner-in-crime, soft and devious smiles, her powerful Lost Magic – and his stomach sinks a little as he tries to see a clearer image of her and her pink-haired company.

(Pink like sakura blossoms, he thinks.)

"Jellal." Her voice is different from the time he spent with her – but so is his. Time changes people.

"We don't have much time, Ultear," the girl beside Ultear whispers before peeking at Jellal, strands of hair visible from beneath the hood of her cape.

Ultear nods absently, and Jellal stares, confused but not afraid.

"We are here to help you out, Jellal," Ultears says as she comes over to him, her fingers running over the metal of his restraints before her magic smoothly unlocks the bindings – and within one short moment, Jellal can feel his magical power – that familiar sensation that dances within the reach of his fingertips.

Magic has never been a child's business to him – it has always been more serious than that, if for all the wrong reasons – but now he relishes in the feeling. It brings a certain amount of comfort – magic, after all, _is_ a part of him and his questionable soul.

"Why?" is the question Jellal blurts out as Ultear helps him up – forcibly – and he staggers a little before regaining his balance.

Ultear flashes a tight-lipped, no-nonsense smile. "Let's talk about that after we get out of here." She turns her gaze towards the girl and then covers her head with her own hood. "They have probably noticed the infiltration by now." The girl nods, and her hand reaches for Jellal, only managing to tug at his prisoner garbs as a sign to get a move on.

One painfully long heartbeat passes, during which Jellal hesitates – to go or to stay?

_Live and struggle, Jellal._

Erza's words make him take the first and last steps towards his freedom. Perhaps he can do it right this time around – maybe he doesn't mess everything up – perhaps he can atone for his sins and _live_.

* * *

"What do you want to do?" Ultear doesn't look at him as she asks him this, but Jellal knows the expression she must be wearing. One of curiosity or one of worry, perhaps – Ultear seems to be much more _caring_ than she used to be, or maybe she simply shows it more nowadays.

Jellal stares at the crackling fire in front of him. "I wish to," he says lowly, quietly, but he knows Meredy and Ultear hear him, "atone for all the sins I have accumulated in this lifetime."

He pauses, and furrows his brow. "I do... not expect you two to follow me."

"Don't be silly." Ultear's smile is audible as she places more wood into the fire. "Meredy and I are just like you – we have our own sins to atone for." Meredy, who is almost nodding off beside Ultear, confirms this with a small, agreeing sound, and Jellal raises his head just enough to look at her curled up figure.

Jellal smiles a little at the sight – he remembers the companionship between himself and Erza and the others, and that thought twists his heart a little for there is so much that he cannot return to this world. So much of innocent blood is in his hands. So many things that time cannot erase...

What is the fairest trade in this situation?

"We cannot do it alone," Ultear continues, and Jellal begrudgingly acknowledges this. He is _weak_ – though whatever pride that he still holds makes it impossible for him to admit – and is weaknesses have already cost the world a lot.

"I was thinking," Jellal eventually says as the crackling of the fire slowly dies down, "about creating a guild that is neither official nor dark." He purses his lips, hesitant as he mulls over his next words. This is something he has considered even before the unexpected jailbreak – but back then it had been nothing but a wistful daydream in the midst of him withering away.

Ultear strokes at Meredy's bright pink hair that puts sakura blossoms to shame, and Jellal silently envies the motherly show of affection. His own mother, after all, is long gone from this world.

Gone.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have a family, he thinks as he looks at Ultear and Meredy, and it's the most absurd mental image he gets – Ultear and him and Meredy, a not entirely dysfunctional but definitely unlikely trio.

Ultear lifts an eyebrow, inviting him to talk further.

"A guild that would hunt down dark guilds," Jellal says, the fingers of his own hands entwined underneath his chin as the flames flicker in the middle of the space between them. His fingers tremble, he notices, but perhaps it is the coldness of the night getting to him more than actual nervousness.

"Official guilds aren't allowed to hunt dark guilds down," Ultear acknowledges and nods as her hand runs through Meredy's hair, solving the knots of the girl's hair.

"We wouldn't be a dark guld since we wouldn't be doing anything shady as collecting dark magic or accepting assassination requests," Jellal says, but then he stops. When has he started to acknowledge Ultear, Meredy and himself as 'we'?

Somewhere along the weeks – months – of surviving and hiding from the Council and their watchdogs, perhaps – three people with no place to go and with no one else but one another. It is much less romantic than it sounds, honestly.

Ultear simply nods, continuing to unknot Meredy's hair as the girl dozes off against the woman. "Have you thought of a name?" There's a twisted smile at the edge of Ultear's lips, and he blinks, and then it's already gone.

"I have not," Jellal admits. "I'm bad with names." He thinks about the time he named Erza as Scarlet, and he smiles just a little bit at the memory that is one of the purest he has – it's saddening how few of those he has.

But that's what he's attempting to fix.

* * *

"Crime Sorcière," Ultear says one day when Jellal is fishing and Meredy is playing with the clams of the beach they're at. Cool ocean breeze brings the scent of salt into his nose, and for a moment it holds no terrible memories from those eight years of self-proclaimed dictatorship. Instead, there are new possibilities at every corner, and these moments are the ones that make him feel like he can pull through.

Like he can repent for everything – like he can continue living a little longer.

"What?" Jellal looks up from rippling surface of water and towards Ultear who sits next to him on the wooden pier, her pant legs pulled up to her knees as she dips her toes into the chilly water.

"Crime Sorcière," she repeats easily, with a crooked smile settled on her lips. "The name for our guild."

"You thought of this now?"

"I have been thinking about it a lot, Jellal." Her eyelids slide down halfway, and Jellal glances at her profile, noticing the way her red lips curls down in something he interprets as sadness.

He swallows, and there's heat on his cheeks. He doesn't know how to deal with women and their emotions – he hardly knows how to deal with his own emotional burden.

"And I know you're saying that your sins need to be atoned for," Ultear speaks softly as she closes her eyes fully, and this might be the most vulnerable he has ever seen Ultear. "But what you thought was Zeref's spirit back then – _that_ was actually me."

Jellal too closes his eyes at that confession and mulls over it.

"I should have told you before."

Jellal shakes his head. "Ultear, don't..." he opens his eyes again and turns to look at her profile, at the way her lips are set in a firm line and the way her overgrown fringe covers her eyes.

She is just like him – drowning in guilt and trying to push forward a new lifestyle that neither of them is used to – and perhaps it is because of that reason that he awkwardly sets his hand over hers in a feeble attempt at comfort.

"Crime Sorcière," he says eventually, his eyes downcast and one hand gripping at the fishing rod and the other one on top of Ultear's, "I think it sounds great, Ultear." He smiles tightly, tensely, and this is his own awkward way of saying _it's all in the past now so it doesn't matter_.

If only he could follow his own advice every once in a while...

* * *

There's a lot of cleansing to do in the world of guilds, and Crime Sorcière starts its mission with a literal bang as they defeat one of the weaker dark guilds – allied to Tartaros, but that is exactly why they're doing it, to gauge Tartaros' intentions with the world now that Oracions Seis and Grimoire Heart have been defeated.

It's a bang, and Jellal makes sure the guild is destroyed even when none of the dark mages lose their lives – what right does he have to steal lives away? He's no one, he's certainly not God.

It's a bang because it feels like something inside him starts to unknot little by little, and for the first time in a while he feels like he's doing something right.

Erza's words resound in his mind again – and again and again – and he starts to believe that maybe there's hope for him after all.

* * *

But living is hard and not without struggling, and there are days when Jellal feels like giving up and Erza's words are hard to grasp.

(Erza's gone, too, and he knows this – gone with that island, possibly never to return. He despairs over this – why is it Erza that disappears from this world? Why someone so courageous and with such a big heart that beats for her friends?)

These days he finds it hard to get up from whatever makeshift bed he sleeps in, but somehow he always manages to get up – if only because of Ultear and Meredy and their own wishes of bettering themselves in their own eyes.

Still, he doesn't know. He doesn't know if _this_ – Crime Sorcière, teaming up with Ultear and Meredy – is enough to remedy his past actions.

He doesn't know if _anything_ can ever make him less evil in his own eyes – or in the eyes of the world – or in Erza's eyes.

And he worries – if he ever meets Erza again, what will she think? What would she say when she realizes that he _remembers_?

He worries about a lot of these things, and there's a huge weight on his shoulders that keeps pulling him down, down, _down_ until he feels like he's suffocating.

He still sees nightmares of Simon's death – he dreams of that expression on Simon's face, of that determination to protect the girl he had loved since their austere excuse of a childhood – and those dreams are the worst because it's not only Simon's death that haunts that dream but there's also Erza – crying, crying, _crying_ – and when Jellal wakes up from those dreams, he's crying and trembling.

And even though Ultear is nearby, keeping watch, and Merey is sleeping near him, he feels like he's all alone.

Living is hard when you feel repulsed by your very being.

* * *

"Do you feel that?" Jellal murmurs to Ultear, and he furrows his brow slightly. They're at the edge of a forest, right outside the buzzing city where the Grand Magic Games are held.

Ultear, by his side, nods, her lips set into a firm line. Her brow is furrowed, as well, and he knows she feels worried too.

"That magic power..." she murmurs.

Meredy, too, nods. "It feels really awful," she murmurs, standing by Ultear's side as always. "But what is it?"

"It could," Jellal eventually says, speaking at the same time as Ultear does, "have something to do with Zeref." They exchange quick glances, not entirely surprised that the other thinks the same.

And this realization sets them on the edge – because it's _Zeref_ they're talking about, that dark mage that Jellal had spent eight years obsessing over. He refuses to put all the blame on Ultear no matter what she says – it's his weakness that made him succumb to the darkness, and he cannot forgive himself for being so weak when everyone had expected him to be strong.

If he ever stopped hating himself, he would realize that expecting a child (had he been eight, nine or ten? It doesn't even matter because the results would be the same) to not crack under the torture he had been subjected to is impossible.

Jellal chews on his lower lip, watchful eyes set on the city below. "This is worrisome."

If only they could get a look at these Magic Games...

It doesn't even pass his mind that the fact that he actually worries over the shape and state of this world, this country, means that he can't be an awful person.

* * *

In the end, when all is said and done, Jellal continues living – not for himself, but for the sake of the guild and its ambition and even though it'll never be _enough, _he promises himself that he will live.

Again, it's Erza that gives him this resolution, this resolve to move on when his feet are caught in quicksand.

"You are such a bad liar," Ultear comments with that knowing smile of hers as she nudges at his side almost plauyfully – like a sister teasing her younger brother – and he almost rolls his eyes.

Meredy, too, grins at him – it's fascinating how much less _serious_ she is and how much she can actually joke around, and it soothes whatever is left of Jellal's scarred soul.

(As absurd as their makeshift family is – they have been together for six years and nothing changes that.)

"It's the only thing that came to mind," he says almost defensively as he takes a bite from his meal, and he purses his lips a little as he almost, _almost_ flushes at the memory still fresh in his mind. Erza. It's always been _her _that could save him from his innermost darkness and demons.

Meredy giggles at him, her eyes intent on him. "Jellal, she loves you too, you idiot." Meredy glances at Ultear, who is combing Meredey's long, soft pink hair with her long fingers, and the older woman smiles softly at the younger one.

Jellal nearly chokes on his food before glancing away, and this time his cheeks probably _are_ faintly red.

"Erza deserves better," is what he mumbles, and he truly believes this to be the case. Even when it's so clear that both their feelings are reciprocated and that they _could_ be happy – together – and that everyone sort of expects them to get together already, he just _can't._

"You are an idiot," Ultear tells him.

"A real idiot," Meredy affirms this.

And Jellal silently agrees with them – but what is he to do? He doesn't want to cage Erza again – he wants to give her true freedom, but she can't have that with a man that is still imprisoned in the sea of his own sins and regrets.

Maybe, one day, maybe he'll be good enough for her – maybe he would finally be free from his past – but right now is not that day.

And he knows it will be a long time before that day comes.


End file.
